New Game, New Rules
by kate882
Summary: The government is divided into divisions. The ones that require the most training are spies and field agents. The training for each have similarities, such as training to kill, to run, to fight, and to analyze. The field agent's training is more about fighting. Spies learn to repress emotion to the point they hardly have any. That worked well for Isaac until he met Scott.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Isaac looked down at the body of the girl he had just spent the last two years of his life with.

She was pretty. Short blond hair, green eyes –that up until moments ago were full of love for him. Now they were cold and lifeless. And Isaac felt nothing.

Well, that wasn't quite true. He felt accomplishment. In just two years he had managed to get all of the information she had on the Russian government. He had seen other spies take twice that amount of time, or more, to extract information from government agents of other countries. Yet he had managed it in two years. It just goes to show how far faking a charming smile and getting someone to fall in love with you can go.

He tossed the unregistered gun into the pond, to keep from having finger prints found. He wouldn't even be a suspect because the relationship had been secret. His excuse for wanting it to be secret was a custody battle with a manipulative wife. Bringing in another woman wouldn't help him win his children. And then the whole 'she's not my mom' thing could be a problem. It had been believed, which meant no one knew who he was, and even then he had used a fake name. Because the likelihood that she hadn't told anyone about him was low.

Isaac got out his cell phone, calling his boss. A Mr. Robert Jacobs. Isaac knew that wasn't his real name. From what Isaac could find his name was Deucalion.

It wasn't his job to know that, but he made it a practice to know everything he could with his information, including that of the people working with him. It kept him in practice for when he had to learn about actual targets.

"Done. Where should I meet the helicopter?" He said with a board tone. He got the location and left, without sparing the woman a second glance.

When he made it to the helicopter someone he had never seen before was there. She introduced herself as Jenifer.

"So, there are no current assignments for you to take on. We have spies in all of the countries on watch. Until you are needed, you will be working as a field agent." Jenifer told him, getting strait to the point.

"I'm not qualified to be a field agent." Isaac replied blankly.

"Can you kill people?" Jenifer replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes."

"Can you restrain people?"

"Yes."

"Can you work handcuffs?"

"Yes."

"Then you're qualified. You'll have a partner as well. His name is Scott McCall." Jenifer said, holding out a file to him.

"Does Mr. McCall know of my usual profession?" Isaac asked, flipping through the file. It had a new ID, an apartment address for him with a key, flight information for his trip back to America, and bank account information. He'd worked with less before.

"He doesn't need to know unless it's necessary. If you think it is in your best interest to tell him, he does still work for our government, so it won't be that big of a deal."

They spent the rest of the ride in silence.

When he got to the airport Isaac opened up his laptop and started researching Scott McCall while he waited for his flight.

* * *

"McCall! I need you to go to my office." Mr. Argent called as Scott started to leave the base.

"But, Sir, I'm supposed to be off for the night." Scott said, coming to a stop. His friend, Stiles, stopped beside him.

"It won't take long." Mr. Argent said, looking annoyed with Scott.

"Do you want me to wait for you?" Stiles asked.

Scott shook his head. "No, you don't have to. I'll see you tomorrow." They waved at each other, and then Scott followed Mr. Argent to his office.

"You're getting a new partner. A temporary named Isaac Smith." Mr. Argent said, getting strait to the point.

Scott rolled his eyes. "You always stick me with the temporaries." He complained. Temporaries were kind of wild cards. Whenever the government didn't have something for the people they deemed qualified they sent them here. Sometimes the temporaries were good, and everyone wanted them to stay. Sometimes everyone just prayed for them to leave before they got everyone killed. It was a messy system, and neither field agent nor temporary liked it very much.

"You are the best at dealing with them." Mr. Argent pointed out.

"Fine." Scott conceded, because that was true. "When does he start?" He asked with a sigh of resignation.

"He starts tomorrow."

Scott stared at Mr. Argent with wide eyes. "That's a bit short notice, do you think?" He said with surprise, and a bit of irritation at being left out of the loop until the night before.

"That's what I said when I was informed of the matter thirty minutes ago. You're free to go now."

Scott understood that meant they were done talking about it, so he said good night and left to go get some sleep.

* * *

Isaac made it to his new apartment with just enough time to set down his book bag and make a cup of coffee. The book bag he had brought with him contained a change of clothes and toiletries. He'd buy more things latter. He hadn't slept on the plane ride. He didn't think it wise to sleep around so many strangers. He'd spent a good portion of the flight researching his new partner.

He still thought it was ridiculous to send him off to be a field agent.

Field agents stopped criminals. That was their only job. The information on the criminals was given to them by researches, like Scott's best friend. A guy who had went to a lot of trouble to cover up his real name. Upon finding it Isaac understood why. He didn't quite get going by Stiles though. Isaac thought that would have been a much better choice for which job choice for him to be given, but oh well. The field agents used the researcher's information to stop the criminals. Be it through arrest or killing them. As such, their training was mainly physical, so they would be able to catch whatever law breaker they were after. They were taught fighting, self-defense, weaponry, and speed.

Isaac got the basics of these trainings. You never know when your cover will be blown and you'll have to fight your way out, or make a run for it, but he hadn't been trained in that area nearly as much as the average field agent. He was trained to analyze, to gather intelligence, to put up whatever personality would work best on the target. They were especially trained, from a young age, to suppress emotion to the point that they hardly had any other than desire to complete the task given to them. He had heard jokes about the spies like him being robots, from people who worked with them, but didn't receive the same training. It was necessary to the job though. Spies would spend large amounts of time with someone, only to have to betray –and possibly kill- them. They couldn't get emotionally attached and complete the task. Emotions were a weakness, and so they were trained to not have them.

Isaac glanced at the clock. He quickly finished his coffee, and headed out the door. He'd have to check the place for surveillance later.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Scott came into work the next morning to find someone with a mess of curly hair sitting at the desk next to his, typing on a laptop faster than Scott would be able to. Scott made a mental note to ask him to type up the mission reports.

"Hi. You must be Isaac." Scott said with a friendly tone, getting the attention of the curly haired man, who had turned around to reveal stunning blue eyes. "I'm –"

"Scott McCall. I'm aware of who you are." Isaac Cut him off, giving Scott a blank look. Alright then . . .

"If you don't mind my asking, does your aversion to killing only apply to you doing it yourself, or would you stop someone else from doing it as well?" Isaac asked, closing the laptop, and giving Scott his full attention.

"I'm not sure that I know what you mean." Scot said, running the question through his head again.

"You have the highest number of stopped criminals, yet you have killed none of them. It's not required in your job to kill, but it's certainly not frowned upon either. So, I was simply wondering, do you only have a problem with you killing, or would you stop me if I thought it in my best interest to kill one of the criminals. I need to know so that I don't end up restrained for pulling out a gun, while the target gets away because you're busy trying to keep me from killing someone." Isaac explained, expression still blank. It was actually a little unnerving how he could sit there asking if Scott would get in his way of killing people, while showing no emotion. What job did this guy have when he wasn't being a temporary?

"Um, well, if I don't think we need to, I'll probably tell you not to." Scott said, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

Isaac nodded in understanding. "Fair enough. When will we be reviving an assignment?" He replied.

"Whenever one of the researchers gets one up to us. It should be soon though." Scott said, taking a seat at his own station. He could feel Isaac watching him a moment longer before he heard a lap top being opened, and Isaac resumed his mile a minute typing.

A few minutes later, Stiles came in with a file. "Got your assignment." He said, dropping it on Scott's desk, and flashing a bright smile. "Oh hey, is this the new temporary?" He said, noticing Isaac.

"That seems like an appropriate term, so I suppose that would be me." Isaac said, sparing a glance at Stiles. "And I presume you are Stiles?"

"Dude, you already told him about me?" Stiles asked Scott, raising his eyebrows.

"No. I haven't mentioned you. He did research or something. He already knew about me." Scott replied, looking over at Isaac. "Did you just look up everyone in this place or something?"

"No. I won't be working with everyone in this place. It makes no sense to waste time researching all of them." Isaac answered with disinterest. "So, what is the mission?" He asked.

Scott started to flip through the file to find out, but Stiles answered for him. "Mark Reacher. He raped and murdered three girls between the ages of 15 and 20."

"Last sighted?" Isaac asked.

"In the file. I'll leave you guys to your team bonding stuff. Nice meeting you Isaac, I need to get back down stairs." Stiles said, waving and walking off.

Though he appeared to be heading over to Derek's station instead of down stairs to the researcher's area.

"He didn't go down stairs." Isaac said. Scott looked at him in surprise, not having noticed Isaac getting up and moving behind him to look over his shoulder at the file.

"No, he went to go see Derek." Scott answered, getting up. "Ready to go?" He asked with a smile.

"Yes." Isaac replied simply before turning on his heel and walking towards the door.

The car ride to the location was the most awkward one he'd had since the last time he was in a car with his dad. Isaac only spoke when spoken to, and after so much time with Stiles it was odd. And the blank look never wavered. He couldn't find anything to indicate that Isaac felt anything.

* * *

Isaac was starting to think they had been given bad information. They had driven to the location, a secluded wooded area, and had been trekking around for over two hours without any indication that anyone was in the area. Isaac actually questioned the fact that anyone had really seen someone out here. Who went out here that wasn't in hiding from the law?

Scott appeared fine though. As if they had been walking around for a mere five minutes instead of two hours.

That is until suddenly there was movement behind Scott.

"Sc-" Isaac was about to warn him when suddenly Scott had a razor pressed to his throat, and his back was pressed against the front of another man. Mark Reacher, by the looks of it. "One step closer and I slit his throat." Came the deep voice of the man holding Scott hostage.

"So?" Isaac replied, taking a step closer and raising an eyebrow.

He saw Scott's eye widen, and then narrow into a glare. "He doesn't appear dead. Be it by slit throat or other means. Yet I took a step forward." Isaac said, tilting his head slightly to look at Mark, who was using Scott as a human shield, and then taking another step forward.

"Stay where you are!" Mark shouted.

"You see, the thing is, it doesn't make since for you to kill him. You lose your leverage then, and while you have a weapon, it's a close range weapon. Mine is not." Isaac said, casually pulling his gun out of his pocket. "And I won't be that distracted by his death. You clearly don't research. I have only known him for a day. It won't affect me if you kill him, other than I might have a bit more paper work to do." He added indifferently. "You kill him, I shoot you, and I move on with my life."

Mark was now looking undecided. "I have a gun to."

Isaac's eyes traveled up and down Mark's frame lazily, what he could see that wasn't blocked by Scott's body, that is. "Scott, do you feel a gun against you?"

"No." Scott said through gritted teeth.

"Right then. So, unless you have it in your back pocket, you just lied. If you do have one in your back pocket, I guarantee you that I can shoot mine faster since it is already out." Isaac said, looking coldly at Mark. "I understand why you picked Scott as your hostage. He seems like the biggest threat. Clearly better trained, well-muscled, look of determination. However, if you had bothered to do research on who would be coming for you, you would realize he's not the one that you want restrained. Scott hasn't killed anyone yet. He has moral problems with it. He also cares about his partners to the point of putting himself at risk. He would be the ideal field agent to negotiate with. Instead, you picked me to try and negotiate with. However, I don't personally care what happens to Scott. I only just met him a few hours ago, and only found out he existed yesterday. I also have no moral aversion to killing people."

Mark moved slightly to look at Isaac, clearly trying to judge if he was serious or not. His movement was all Isaac needed. His gun was up and had fired a bullet before Mark could so much as blink. He bullet went through Mark's head, splattering crimson drops of blood onto Scott's face.

Scott for his part looked shocked, but Isaac ignored him in favor of walking over to Mark and testing his pulse on his wrist.

"You shot him in the head. Is pulse testing really necessary?" Scott asked.

"Have you heard of Phineas Gage?" Isaac replied.

"No, but I feel like I'm about to."

"He survived a rail road spike going through his head. So, yes, a pulse check is necessary." Isaac told him.

"You just killed him. You didn't even flinch or hesitate. You've done this before." Scott said accusingly.

"Killed someone? Yes. Been a field agent before? No." Isaac said, since he wasn't sure what Scott was referring to.

"What did you even do before you go assigned here?" Scott asked, sounding exasperated now.

"It isn't really relevant at the moment." Isaac replied.

"I think it is pretty damn relevant if it makes you perfectly okay with killing someone." Scott said, glaring at Isaac.

Isaac just shrugged. "Are we moving the body, or do we call sanitation to do it for us? I know we call them eventually, but should the body be moved somewhere a little easier to get to?"

"We call them now, but I'm not calling them until you tell me what you did before this."

Isaac stared at Scott for a moment, before pulling out his own phone. "They do give temporaries the numbers that they will need." He jerked his hand back when Scott reached to take his phone. "That was almost depressingly predictable." He informed Scott, though he didn't sound depressed. Just bored.

The next thing he knew, Isaac found the front half of his body being pressed against a tree, his hands forced behind his back, and his phone being pulled out of them. "Was that 'depressingly predictable' as well?" He heard Scott almost growl in his ear.

"Yes, there just wasn't much I could do about it." Isaac replied, tree bark scratching his face as he moved his jaw to speak to Scott.

He was sure if he could turn around he would see Scott rolling his eyes at him. "So, how long are we going to have to stay here before you tell me?"

Isaac considered that for a moment, assessing the situation. He could just wait and see how long it took for Scott to get bored, but he had a feeling Scott would continue to pull stunts like this until he found out.

There was no rule saying that he couldn't tell Scott. Scott worked for the same government as him after all, so it wasn't like he would get in trouble if he told.

"I was a spy. Now get off of me." He said.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Scott let out a laugh at that. "You're kidding, right? A spy?"

"Do I seem like the type to make jokes?" Isaac replied, and Scott knew he had a point there. "I am a spy for the American government. I recently finished my mission in Russia. There were no missions for me after that, so I became a temporary. Just as any other government agent would be in the instance that they had nothing to do."

"Prove it." Scott said, letting go of Isaac and taking a step back.

Scott mentally went over everything he knew about spies. Which, in all honesty, really wasn't that much. They were smart. They analyzed. They usually were taken out of bad homes at a young age to start training. They were good at disappearing. They were amazing liars.

"Give me my phone." Isaac replied calmly, stepping away from the tree and brushing himself off.

"No."

Scott was pretty sure if Isaac was one for showing annoyance he would have rolled his eyes at Scott. "Do you expect me to prove it by just standing here? I'd do better with a computer, but I can probably find some proof on my phone."

Scott tried to get into the phone himself to find this proof, but couldn't get passed the password. Somehow, Isaac had managed to get his phone to ask for a ten digit password instead of the standard four. There was no way he was going to get into the phone.

He tossed it to Isaac, who easily caught it and logged in. His fingers flew across the screen and then he held it out to show Scott . . . some girl's face book page?

"I don't get it." Scott told him with clear confusion.

"Of course you don't. I haven't explained it to you yet." Isaac replied. "Take a look though. You're going to need to remember her name and what she looks like for the proof to work.

So, Scott looked. She was pale, had golden blond hair that hung in waves, emerald green eyes, and had a bright smile showing perfect teeth. Her name appeared to be Aniya. He didn't know what he was supposed to be doing with that information though.

"I don't read Russian. I still don't know anything about her." Scott told him.

"You don't have to. Just remember what she looks like, her name, and watch the news tonight. They aren't going to have found her body until today, and they won't have found out she worked for the Russian government until tonight. I killed her. They won't know who the killer is, but there will be speculation about a spy's involvement. That's your proof. May I call sanitation now?"

"Wait, that's it?!" Scott asked.

"Were you really expecting more? If I just left proof of be being a spy laying around I would be out of the job." Isaac pointed out, and then proceeded to ignore Scott in favor of calling for sanitation.

So, that night, Scott turned on his TV to watch the news. About an hour into watching, he was actually about to give up, the girl's face popped up on his screen.

"A girl was found dead this morning. She was shot in the chest, and no prints could be found on the gun that was thrown in the water. It was unregistered, but authorities suspected that it was a secret boyfriend. According to her friends she was seeing someone, but she wouldn't say who he was. Although, after further investigation, it appears that she worked for the Russian government. This makes it more likely that she was killed by a spy. Which leaves the question, how much information did she give away, and to which government?" Scott shut off his TV. Alright then. Isaac was a spy. What was he supposed to do with that information?

The next morning he came to work to see Isaac already there.

"So, how do you do it then?" He asked as he sat down. "Because your personality doesn't exactly open people up to share their lives. It actually gives an 'I already know, but I don't care' kind of vibe."

Isaac was looking at him with disinterest. "Are you actually asking me about this in a room full of people?" He asked, and Scott could practically feel the judgment rolling off Isaac in waves.

"I didn't say what you do." Scott said defensively.

"I analyze and decide on which personality type a target gets along best with."

"Try it on me." Scott said, crossing his arms over his chest. He was curious about what Isaac was going to come up with.

Isaac's cold blue eyes flickered over him before he started speaking. "You're disorganized, despite how orderly your desk looks. You don't sleep as much as you should, but not from insomnia like your friend, Stiles. More likely from either playing video games, watching TV, or looking at reports if a mission goes unfinished. You put yourself in danger all the time, but don't like others doing the same. You like to know everything that's going on around you, and take personal offence to being uniformed. You're more comfortable with people who talk a lot than people who don't. You are attracted to both guys and girls. You have a strong sense of morals, and you hate it when people disagree with them. You believe that everyone deserves a second chance. You act like you don't care what people think of you, but just asking me to analyze you made you nervous, even though you're fully aware that I already had you analyzed before this. You are a natural leader. You're closer to your mother than your father. And despite me nearly getting you killed yesterday, you're not planning on requesting I get a different partner."

"And with all of that what have you figured out about personality type matching, or whatever?" Scott asked.

"You don't really have one. You try to get along with almost everyone. It's more about which personality type gets along with you." Isaac said with a shrug. "Or, types actually. There are quite a few."

Scott opened his mouth to reply, but Stiles came upstairs from the researcher's lab with their files. "Slightly less evil than the guy you two were after yesterday. This one just robs banks. And he's in the process of it right now. He's got hostages, so you should probably get going quickly." Stiles told them. Scott wasn't sure why Stiles bothered with giving him files. He always ended up telling him what was going on anyway. Though apparently hearing it wasn't enough for Isaac, because his eyes were quickly scanning the pages in his file, probably memorizing every word.

"Come on, Isaac. We've gotta go." Isaac held up a finger, signaling him to wait as he read. Scott rolled his eyes, grabbed Isaac by the other man's tie, and pulled him towards the door. Isaac barely spared him a glance as he continued reading.

"Do I have to pull you into the car as well, or can you get in yourself?" Scott asked, stopping by the car.

"I'm done reading, so I suppose I can get in by myself." And maybe it was just Scott's imagination, but he thought he detected a hint of sarcasm. It had to be his imagination though.

"There is no way you read all of that so quickly." Scott told him.

"Should I recite it to you?" Isaac asked, getting into the passenger seat.

"No thanks." Scott replied, getting into the driver's seat and starting the car.

They were quiet for a few minutes before Scott spoke up again. "So, why did you kill that girl?"

"I was told to kill her when I got all of the information she had."

"And you never asked why?" Scott asked.

"No." Isaac seemed rather board with the conversation, but that was normal for him, so Scott wasn't sure if Isaac actually wanted him to stop talking or not.

"Dude, who just kills someone for someone else without asking why?" Scott cast Isaac an incredulous look, before returning his eyes to the road.

"Plenty of the people you've captured, I'm sure. But I don't have to ask why. I know. If the government decided to do something with that information she would know who had gotten it to them. She could tell someone, and then I am no longer usable as a spy." Isaac explained.

"Oh." The rest of the ride was quiet after that.

* * *

As soon as they walked into the bank Isaac found a gun aimed right in his face.

"What the fuck do you two think you're doing in here?" The man, Rick Green, snarled.

Isaac opened his mouth to answer, but ended up learning what it would feel like to try and deep throat a gun instead. Unpleasant. A gun in his mouth was certainly unpleasant.

"Well, I don't know how you expect to get answers to your questions if you put guns in the mouths of people trying to give them." Scott said, pulling out his own gun and aiming it at Rick.

"Right, the guy who looks like a puppy is actually going to shoot me." Rick said, rolling his eyes. "Let me guess. You two are field agents?"

"Yes, and I'd like you to remove your gun from my partner's mouth. Then we can actually talk." Scott replied.

"We're talking just fine."

"Isaac's not. He hasn't gotten a word in." Scott pointed out.

"I don't particularly care to hear about what Isaac has to say. Letting Isaac be the negotiator got Mark killed yesterday." Rick countered. Isaac's eyes narrowed slightly at that statement.

"Word spreads that quickly in the crime district?" Scott asked raising his eyebrows.

Isaac would agree with that, because it was true, except no one had been in the woods with them yesterday. No one should know that Isaac had been the one to kill Mark. Something was very wrong here.

"You'd be amazed." Rick agreed.

There had to have either been cameras or someone had seen the mission report.

"How about this? You remove your gun from my partners mouth, let these people go, and instead of killing you, we just take you to jail." Scott suggested, giving Rick and easy smile.

"How about this? I kill your partner. Then I kill you. I take the money, and I leave."

"That doesn't sound so great. See, despite his complete lack of personality I kind of like my partner. I really don't want to have to see his brains splattered on the walls." Scott said, causing Isaac's eyebrows to raise. "Well, lack of emotions is the better word. He actually has a bit of personality."

"That seems fair. How about I kill you first then? That way you don't have to see his brains, and he isn't bothered by yours." Rick replied, removing the gun from Isaac's mouth.

He was moving it to aim it at Scott, but as soon as it was out of Isaac's mouth Scott was moving. He grabbed the arm that was holding the gun and twisted it until the gun fell to the ground, and then grabbed Rick's other arm, pinning them both behind Rick's back. "Isaac, if you aren't too traumatized from having to give a gun a blow job, would you please cuff our friend here?"

Isaac just shrugged before moving over and cuffing Rick. "Scott, while you make sure all of the hostages are okay, I'm going to take him back to the car. I have some questions." Isaac said, pulling Rick towards the car.

"Don't kill him. I'm serious." Scott called after him.

"I wasn't planning on it. The dead don't speak nearly as well as the living." Isaac said dryly.

"What do you wanna know, blue eyes?" Rick asked after Isaac shoved him in the back of the car and slid in beside him.

"How you know about me killing Mark."

"You're smart. Figure it out." Rick replied, grinning at Isaac.

"Do you know what the problem with being smart is? You come up with all sorts of possibilities. I need answers."

"Well, that's just too damn bad. Because, sweetheart, you aren't getting them from me."

"Well, that's just a damn shame. Because, sweetheart, I'm not above torturing them out of you." Isaac replied offhandedly, picking up a pen and playing with it.

"What are you going to do? Draw on me?" Rick laughed. "Maybe you can draw a smiley face, since you don't know how to smile for yourself."

Isaac gave Rick a cold smile before he stabbed the pen into Rick's arm, and started dragging it at an angle so that the wound was vaguely in the shape of a ragged smile, ignoring Rick's screaming and the blood getting on his hand.

"Should I add eyes and a nose to make the whole face, or am I going to get answers now, sweetheart?" Isaac asked with the most sugary sweet tone he could manage without giving himself a cavity. "Or maybe I should just put the next smile on your eye so that I don't have to draw eyes." He suggested.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"I told you not to kill him!" Scott exclaimed when he saw Isaac leaning against his car with blood on his hands.

"I didn't." Isaac replied.

"Then what did you do?" Scott asked suspiciously.

"I gave him a few interesting scars. I got my questions answered though." Isaac said. "And I'll pay for the dry cleaning to get the blood stains out of the back of the car."

"What the hell were you even wanting to know so badly?" Scott asked, curious despite himself.

"How he knew that I killed Mark."

"Isaac, word spreads amongst criminals faster than it does between teenage girls who promise not to tell." Scott said with exasperation.

"Yes, but for word to spread, someone has to have seen." Isaac told him, and Scott hated him a little for thinking of that first.

"So what, you asked him who was there with us?" Scott asked.

"No one was there."

"Well then don't leave me hanging, dude, how did he know?"

"How easy is it to access our files?" Isaac asked.

"Not that hard. You did it yesterday to put in the report." Scott replied, not quite sure how that was supposed to answer his question.

Isaac shook his head. "Not what I mean. For someone who didn't work for us. Keeping in mind that all files are digital, so they should only be able to hack the system to get into the files."

"Um, I'm not in security, but I'd imagine that it's rather difficult, considering we get a new password every day." Scott told him. "But if you think for a moment that I don't believe you've already hacked us, you're wrong." He added.

"You're learning then. Yes, I did. It is actually rather well guarded." Isaac informed him.

"Right. So, why are you asking then?"

"Not learning enough though. Scott, either someone hacked into our files or someone on the inside got them. Knowing that it took me effort, and I'm trained to hack into things, which seems more likely?"

"He told you that someone working for us is smuggling files? Who?" Scott asked, staring at Isaac with wide eyes.

"If I knew who it was, I wouldn't be standing here explaining what's going on to you. He didn't know, so he couldn't tell me."

"Are you sure he just didn't tell you?" Scott asked, raising an eyebrow.

Instead of answering him, like a normal person would, Isaac walked over to the back and opened up the back door.

Rick was slumped against the back seat, somehow managing to look in pain even while unconscious. And Scott could understand why. He had something that vaguely resembled the most horrifying happy face he had ever seen carved into his arm, and a few random puncture wounds in his arms, hands, legs, shoulders, and a few on his face.

"What the hell did you even do that with? And why the unhappy happy face?" Scott asked, not quite horrified –he had seen worse with his job, though it was usually done by the criminals- so much as stunned.

Isaac picked up a bloody pen from the floor. "He asked if I was going to draw a smiley face on him. So, I did." He explained, dropping the pen. "After he got done with the death threats it wasn't hard to get him talking."

"Why didn't you just do that analyze and find the right personality thing?"

"I did." Isaac said simply before taking a seat on the driver's side this time.

"Are we not going to the base?" Scott asked, raising an eyebrow. He didn't see any other reason Isaac would suddenly show an interest in driving.

"No."

"Then where are we going? I'm not giving you the keys without knowing where we are going." Scott replied, reaching into his back pocket for his keys, only to find them missing. He glared at Isaac, who held up the keys. "Dude. Not cool. Where are we going?"

"My apartment."

Whatever answer Scott had been expecting, it wasn't that one. "You gonna tell me why?"

"No one will be watching us at my apartment, and we're about to try and out hack your mystery hacker."

"You work for spies, and you think they didn't put surveillance equipment in your apartment?" Scott asked, raising his eyebrows at Isaac.

"I know they did, but I removed it. It's kind of a test, to make sure we aren't out of practice. They put surveillance in, you get it out."

Scott gave a resigned sigh and got into the passenger seat. "What are we doing about Rick?"

"I can stab his foot and he won't be able to leave." Isaac said with a shrug, not even sparing Rick's unconscious form a glance.

"We aren't doing that."

"I said 'I' not 'we'. You don't have to stab him if it makes you uncomfortable." Isaac replied, pulling out of the parking lot. For someone completely content to let other people drive for him, Isaac was a rather good driver.

"You aren't stabbing him either!" Scott exclaimed.

"Why not? I'm comfortable with it."

"You seem like the type who would be comfortable with pressing the button that blows up the world." Scott told him, rolling his eyes.

"If it had to, yes. I'd do it." Isaac replied with his usually lack of interest.

"Of course you would. You're still not stabbing his foot."

"Then what do you suggest we do to keep him here if he wakes up. It's not that hard to get out of a car hand cuffed."

"Damn it. Fine. You can stab his foot. If he still gets out, I blame you."

"If he still gets out we can track him by the blood leaking from his foot." Isaac retorted, pulling into the parking lot of an apartment complex.

Scott waited outside the car while Isaac stabbed the guy with a pen Scott would never be able to use again.

Isaac got out of the car a few moments later, and lead the way to his apartment.

It was pretty much what Scott thought it would be. Neat and impersonal. There were no pictures of family or friends, no decorations, just the standard furniture. Isaac could probably pack up and vanish in five minutes with no evidence that he had ever lived here. Which, Scott supposed was the point. "Nice place."

"Yes, I suppose it is." Isaac said opening up his laptop and taking a seat on his couch after washing the blood off of his hands.

"You're allowed to sit, Scott. In fact, I'd prefer if you did. You know your coworkers, I don't. You could be useful." Isaac said, typing a mile a minute on his computer.

"Just now realizing that I'm useful?" Scott teased, taking a seat on the couch next to Isaac.

"If I didn't think you were useful you would be at the base, not my apartment."

"Didn't know you cared." Scott replied sarcastically.

"That's because I don't." Isaac replied coldly, and yeah, okay, it kind of stung, but it wasn't unexpected information. He would be surprised if Isaac had said that he did actually.

"Is there anything, or anyone, you do care about?" Scott asked curiously.

"I care about getting the job done. That's all."

"How do you even motivate yourself to do that?"

"How do you? Your job is far more dangerous than mine." Isaac countered. Was that defensiveness or just usual Isaac snark?

"I motivate myself with the knowledge that I am protecting people. With every criminal I bring in I know I'm making the world a safer place for the people I care about. That's why I go into danger everyday. So the people I love don't have to. Your turn. Why do you do it?"

"What else am I supposed to do?"

"That's a question, not a reason." Scott told him, frowning a little.

"No. It's a reason." Isaac said, not taking his eyes off the screen. "Not a noble reason like yours, but just as much a reason. I have been trained to be a spy. It's what I know how to do. I do not have anyone I care about to protect, so I simply do the work I'm trained to do. What else am I supposed to do? Spying is what I know, and it's one of the few jobs where not caring is an advantage. Where not caring is looked at like the strength that it is. I have watched people fall apart because of caring for others. People die because they care for other people. It is a weakness, but a weakness that gives you motivation. I don't have that. So, my reason is, what else am I supposed to do?" He said all of that in the same board tone he always used, as if he didn't realize how depressing living like that would be to other people.

"Well, I think that's sad." Scott told him.

"Is it? Oh." Isaac replied, confirming what Scott thought about him not knowing.

* * *

"I'm in." Isaac said when he got into the bases system. He felt the couch shift when Scott moved closer to look at the computer.

They spent hours looking through people's files. Isaac analyzed and read their information, and then had Scott tell him everything he knew about that person.

It was dark outside when Isaac's phone rang. Stiles was calling him according to the caller ID.

"Isaac, why do you have Stiles number?" Scott asked him.

"For the same reason I'm assuming that he has mine. To keep track of you." Isaac replied before answering.

"Why isn't Scott answering his phone?"

"He left it in the car." Isaac told him, noticing Scott patting his pockets. Apparently that hadn't been done intentionally then.

"Where are you guys? You were supposed to be back hours ago." Stiles asked, sounding less worried now that he had been told why Scott wasn't answering.

"We went to my apartment to look a few things up online. It was closer than going to the base. We'll come back to fill out the mission report." Isaac said, hanging up before Stiles could reply.

"So, any idea on who it is?" Scott asked as Isaac closed the computer and got to his feet.

"Quite a few. That's the problem." He replied.

"Alright. Well, who do you think it most likely is?"

"Objectively, that would have to be you." Isaac said, leading the way out of the apartment.

"Me?" Scott said, sounding offended. "You think I did it?"

"Not what I said." Isaac told him with a shake of his head. "I told you that, objectively, you would be the most likely person to do it. You were there. So, you wouldn't have to get copies of the file. You could just tell someone what happened. You don't kill criminals, which could indicate that you work with them, and when the gun was brought out today it was aimed at your partner instead of you. However, knowing you, and your personality, I don't think it was you." He explained, taking his usual place in the passenger seat.

Rick was awake again, and muttering plans to kill Isaac. "None of those are going to work if you say them while I can hear them." Isaac commented, and then continued pointing out the flaws in the different plans as they drove back to the base.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Isaac should be requesting a new partner. He didn't want a new one though. Which was exactly why he should get a new one. He shouldn't have any preference besides someone who doesn't slow him down. Which Scott didn't really do.

They had ben working together for a week and a half now. They kept what they found out about the files to themselves, and continued to look into it.

Isaac questioned the people they caught, and pretty quickly word started to get around to criminals that he wasn't afraid to torture or manipulate. Even though they wrote in reports that they didn't cause the injuries that some of the criminals were coming in with, because they didn't have an explanation for why they had without saying what they were questioning people about, criminals were still able to put two and two together. Granted, Isaac didn't always have to use torture. Sometimes other personalities worked just as well, but when the criminals known for not talking started showing up to jail injured, people figured it out. Which made questioning somewhat easier, because they were now afraid of Isaac. He only had to torture three other people before criminals started catching on, and most of them decided it was easier to just be honest with him.

Still, no one seemed to know why they were getting information, or who it was coming from. Scott was getting frustrated, and had apparently decided it was a good idea to punch the car. Isaac thought it would have been more productive to punch the person they had been interrogating, but seeing as there was now a dent in the car door and Scott still looked ready to punch something, Isaac decided it was in his best interest to not criticize Scott's judgment on what he should and shouldn't hit.

"He's hiding something." Scott insisted. "I may not be trained as much as you in personality analysis, but I've got enough training to know he knows something. Hell, I'd know even without training."

Scott had grabbed Isaac's arm and dragged him away from the car to tell him that.

"Scott. Let go." Isaac said calmly, looking down at the hand holding his arm in a bruising grip.

"What?" Scott asked, looking down at his hand. His eyes widened as he realized how tight he had been holding Isaac's arm, and he quickly let go. "Sorry! Oh God, I'm really sorry, Isaac. Are you okay?" He asked with concern.

If Scott hadn't been trained so much the concern would have been odd. However, Isaac had no doubt that Scott could break his arm with no effort, so he could understand Scott's worry.

"I'm fine. I'm just going to have a hand print shaped bruise on my arm for a while." He replied.

"I'm really sorry, Isaac." Scott said, looking for all the world like a kicked puppy.

"Scott, I'm not mad at you. You don't have to apologize."

"I know you aren't mad at me. You don't really get mad. I still shouldn't have hurt you. So, I'm not saying I'm sorry because I think you're mad, or because I think I have to. I'm apologizing because I am legitimately sorry that I hurt you. I care about you, and I don't want you to get hurt." Scott said, looking and sounding completely honest. And that was when Isaac realized that should get a new partner. It was also when he realized that he didn't want to.

"It's fine. I've had worse." He saw something darken in Scott's eyes when he said he'd had worse. Apparently Scott really didn't like the idea of Isaac being hurt, just like he had said. Isaac decided to continue before Scott could say something about it. "I agree with you that he knows something, but you hit the car and then pulled me away before I could do something about that."

"You were going to do something? But you were just staring at him." Scott replied.

"Yes, Scott, because I was thinking. Torture and trust won't work with him. The only thing he really cares about is his own life. You can't take that and get answers. I've got an idea though."

With that he walked back to the car and slid into the seat next to their latest target. "So, my partner thinks you know something." Isaac told him casually. "Personally I don't care. My file getting out makes most criminals afraid of me." He flashed a predatory smile. "But he doesn't like it, and I like him, so I'm going to need you to tell me what you know."

Scott had told him once that he always found it weird to watch Isaac put on a personality and dispose of it so easily with criminals. Scott had compared it to taking off a shirt and putting a different one on.

"It's cute that you want to protect McCall, Curls, but I don't know anything."

Isaac let out a laugh at that. "Says the guy who knows my partners name. Although, I'm a little disappointed that you couldn't come up with a better nick name than that. Curls? Seriously? You could try to be more creative than that." Isaac told him with amusement.

"Hard to come up with something on the spot when I hardly know you. Would you prefer Blondie, or Blue Eyes, or maybe we can just go with Lahey?"

Isaac didn't react past cocking an eyebrow. "Is that last one French? I was under the impression your family came from somewhere in Asia." He replied.

"I don't know where the origin of the name comes from. I quite like the sound of it though. Isaac Lahey."

"Not my last name. Sorry. I'd tell you what it actually is, but I'm afraid we've been chit chatting for too long." He said, flashing the predatory smile again, eyes taking on a dangerous glint.

"Ah yes, here comes the torture for information. Which question are you perusing? Would you like to know how I learned your name, or are you going to ask me about those files?" He asked, putting up a predatory smiles of his own.

"Whichever you feel like answering before I kill you." Isaac said, taking a razor blade out from the glove compartment.

"You kill me and you lose your answers."

"You're forgetting that I don't care. It's my partner that wants answers. Which is why this may take a while." Isaac replied, grinning like a kid on Christmas as he grabbed the man's wrist, shoved the cuff up roughly so that the metal dug into the skin and exposed the now reddened wrist, and then he slowly slid the blade across the flesh. He didn't break skin though. Not yet.

"Let's play a little game." He suggested. "Every time I use this, I'll put a little more pressure. Eventually you'll either talk, or you'll bleed out. Let's see which happens first." His smile took on a sadistic edge and he let a little craziness show in his eyes.

A trace of fear started to show in the target, and it was just what he needed to know he'd picked the right personality, and the right method.

He swiped the blade again. This time a white line appeared.

"You can't kill me." The reddish tent the line took on after the next swipe said what Isaac thought about that statement. "He said you wouldn't be able to kill me if I had that name."

"He? Thank you for narrowing down the suspects. I can now cross off Lydia and Allison and Erica." Isaac replied, swiping again, a scratch appeared, but it wasn't bleeding yet.

"You need me." The man insisted as the next movement of the blade had blood welling up.

"Not really; no I don't." Isaac said casually, slashing again. Some more blood welled up, brimming at the edges of the cut, ready to start spilling with another cut of the blade, which Isaac supplied.

He looked at the blood with an expression of unconcealed glee. "Fascinating, isn't it? How just this much will be quickly replaced, but if I cut deeper the loss will beat out the replacement. And you'll die. You'll just be gone because your skin cells couldn't repair fast enough, and your heart couldn't pump enough blood." Isaac said, slashing again. Blood was dripping onto the car seats, which they had learned to start putting plastic over.

"Is this what your father did to you? Start to bleed you out and then stop? Or was he not as creative as you? Did he just stick to the basic hitting and playing off your fears. Do you still have a problem with small spaces because of that freezer, or did they train that out of you?" It was a gamble, giving up the fact that he knew all of that about Isaac. It could completely set him off, and make him cut too hard, but Isaac knew he was hoping for the opposite. He wanted Isaac to freeze. He wanted him to ask how he knew about that.

"No idea what you're talking about. I grew up in a very loving home." Isaac lied with a lazy smile, swiping the blade again.

"A loving family in the little town of Beacon Hills. Poor poor little Isaac Lahey. His mother died. His brother died. And his father started abusing him. Until suddenly, enter stage left, Deucalion. Here to sweep young Isaac away from that life. Train him to not care about it. To not care about anyone."

He didn't get angry, or sad, or fearful as the man was clearly hoping for. Instead he just swiped again. "Sounds depressing. Not me though." Isaac replied casually, absentmindedly slicing again.

One more slash and the guy was unconscious. He wasn't going to talk, and he couldn't be allowed to live with that information. So, Isaac swiped the blade one more time, going deep enough to kill.

* * *

"Isaac?" Scott started when Isaac stepped out of the car.

"Give me something to clean my hands with." Isaac said before Scott could start questioning him. "Scott. Something to clean my hands with. They are covered in blood." Isaac repeated.

"What – there isn't anything to –" Scott sighed and stripped off his shirt, handing it to Isaac.

Isaac didn't even question it. He just got the blood off as best he could and got into the passenger seat.

He pulled out a laptop case, which he had apparently stored under the seat without Scott noticing. His fingers flew over the board, faster than Scott had ever seen, and his eyes were moving rapidly as he looked at everything on the screen.

"Isaac, whatcha doing?" Scott asked, cautiously approaching the other.

"Searching. Isaac Lahey doesn't exist. He hasn't for several years." He said, not sparing a glance at Scott.

"That's your name, isn't it?" Scott asked.

"No." It was said with his normal uninterested tone, but there seemed to be a slight edge to it now.

"Did your dad really do those things to you?" Scott asked.

"You know, Scott, you should be a spy. Because you seem to think other people's business is your own." Scott looked a bit startled at the harsh words, but Isaac was continuing before he could say anything about. "No, Scott. Because the guy he was talking about doesn't exist. He's dead. Gone from this Earth. Burned in a house fire, still locked in a freezer."

"Spies are supposed to come from bad homes, right? And you wouldn't be searching so frantically if that was just some random guy you shared a first name with."

"Careful. You might end up stealing Stiles' job." Isaac replied with disinterest.

"Damn it, Isaac." Scott said, reaching forward and closing the laptop before pulling Isaac out of the car. He made sure not to hurt him this time.

"Isaac. Calm down." Scott said, holding him in place by his shoulders so he wouldn't go back to the computer, and met Isaac's cold blue eyes with his own brown ones.

"I am calm." Isaac said, and he did sound and look completely calm. As always.

"Do you trust me?" Scott asked, deciding to change tactics.

"About as far as you can throw me." Isaac told him, giving his best attempt at a shrug while his shoulders were restrained.

"That's not the phrase." Scott said with furrowed eyebrows.

"I couldn't throw you that far. I assume you could get me a bit farther." He explained.

"Is that a yes?"

"No, but it's more than I usually trust people." Isaac told him.

"Then can't you trust me enough to be okay with telling me something you know I already know after hearing that?"

Isaac seemed to consider that for a moment. Scott could practically see Isaac's brain weighting the pros and cons of telling him. Scott wondered if Isaac was actually going to stick to his original plan of not telling him, despite him being able to hear the accusations being made about Isaac in the car.

"Yes. Everything he said about my life was true. And he shouldn't know them. So, either the person he worked for found something, or they found someone. Isaac Lahey is gone. So, I'm trying to find out if there's something about me out there somewhere. If we're done with the heart to heart, I'd like to get back to that." He didn't wait for an answer. He simply shrugged Scott's hands off his shoulders and went back to his seat and reopened his laptop.

Scott wanted to ask more questions, but he was sure that Isaac was done sharing. He could still give it a try. "So, who's Deucalion?"

"A person."

"Wanna elaborate on that?"

"Not particularly." Which was about what Scott had expected. He smiled anyway as he got into the driver's side, because Isaac trusted him more than most people.

He frowned as something else came to mind. "Wait. Is he dead?" Scott asked, looking at the man in the back seat of his car who had fallen over. "Did you actually kill him?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because he knew too much, and I don't trust him to keep it to himself."

And, well, Scott wasn't really sure hot to feel about that. "I'll call sanitation."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Stiles was waiting for them, perched on Scott's desk, the next morning.

Isaac ignored Stiles while he chattered on, waiting for Scott to show up. Isaac knew Stiles was smart, but the only impression he was getting at the moment was that Stiles had no brain to mouth filter.

The only time he paused his talking to Isaac was to greet Derek, and promise to meet Derek in a few minutes when the other field agent passed by. And then Stiles was right back to talking a mile a minute, having seemingly no problem with the fact that Isaac clearly wasn't listening to him.

Scott arrived about ten minutes after Derek passed by, so twenty minutes after Isaac.

"Hey, Stiles. What's up?" Scott asked, sipping at a coffee.

"I want to know what is going on with you two." Stiles declared, catching Isaac's attention enough for Isaac to spare him a glance.

"Well, considering what that statement usually means, I'm going to have to say nothing." Scott said, after a moment to get over his surprise.

"No. Not what I mean. I don't think you guys are dating, but you're definitely up to something."

"Nearly everyone is up to something at some point." Isaac replied.

"Yes. Thank you for that fortune cookie level of vagueness. I was looking for an explanation." Stiles replied, rolling his eyes.

"You should have been clearer about that." Isaac told him, getting a smile from Scott.

"Right. I'll keep that in mind." Stiles said dryly before turning his attention to Scott. "So, are you planning on giving me an explanation?"

Scott bit his lip and looked at Isaac, who had told him just the day before he trusted him to keep things to himself. He seemed to be trying to silently be asking if what they were doing with the criminals counted in that trust.

"Well, I hope you're at least not planning to tell him in here where co-workers can hear what you're saying." Isaac said after a moment of thought.

A bright smile formed on Scott's face at that. It was clear he didn't like keeping things from his best friend.

"Can you come over tonight after work?" Scott asked Stiles.

"I'm actually going to Derek's house tonight."

"Like a date?" Scott asked.

"Yeah. First date of pizza and movies." Stiles said with a beaming smile.

"You couldn't have waited one more week to go on your date? Now I owe Erica ten dollars." Scott whined.

"You were betting on when Derek and I would get together?" Stiles asked, looking surprised.

"Half of the office is. There are also bets going on for when Erica and Boyd will get together. How long before Allison files a complaint about Matt's stalking. When Ethan and Danny are getting back together. Whether or not Chris Argent and Peter Hale are fucking." Scott and Stiles' eyes widened a little at that one. "If Lydia is going to pick Jackson or Aiden. And if Scott and I will date. I'm convinced the majority of you people have a gambling problem." Isaac finished.

"Are you taking part in any of these bets?" Scott asked.

"No. I'm just aware they are happening." Isaac replied.

"You should place a few. You're good at knowing things about people. You chould make some good money."

"I don't need the money."

"Then tell me what to bet on." Scott said.

"You don't need the money either." Isaac pointed out. Field agents had dangerous jobs, so they were paid well.

"Yeah, but I still want to win."

"Erica and Boyd, before the end of the month. Allison, as soon as she sees his camera. Danny and Ethan already have. Yes, Peter and Mr. Argent are. Jackson will be moving to London soon, so Aiden."

"What about you and Scott? Stiles asked teasingly.

"What about us?" Isaac asked, his tone and expression blank. That should have been an answer in and of itself, but apparently Stiles didn't think so.

"Well, you just rattled off your opinion on all of the bets going on, except for the one about you and Scott. What's your take on that one?"

"Isaac just kind of tolerates me. There's no way he'd be interested in dating me." Scott answered before Isaac could.

"So, do you want to come over to hear about it tomorrow then?" Scott asked Stiles, changing the subject, and Isaac was pretty sure Scott was blushing a little bit. He thought Stiles saw it to, judging by the smug smirk on his face.

"Yeah, sure." Stiles agreed. "Here are your files for today." He added, dropping files on their desk before heading off to meet Derek.

Isaac flipped open the file broadly. "I haven't had enough caffeine for this." He decided as he read over the file. Domestic abuser turned murderer.

"We can switch with Erica if you want." Scott offered, looking concerned.

"Why would we do that?" Isaac asked, tilting his head slightly.

"Because of the domestic abuse." Scott replied.

"Scott, we don't have to trade assignments. I just need another coffee." Isaac said, before walking over the coffee machine a few feet away from their desks.

* * *

"I'm questioning him this time." Scott told Isaac.

Catching the guy had been easy. He'd still been in the house, the bodies of his family in there with him. Apparently he wasn't aware that the neighbor had heard the screaming and then the gun shots.

Restraining him wasn't as easy. He'd gotten into a fist fight with Isaac when Isaac had tried to cuff him.

Scott had been in the other room, checking for survivors, and ran in when he heard the fight. He found Isaac on top of the guy, strangling him, and quickly pulled them apart.

Isaac had come away from that fight with a busted lip, bloody knuckles, and some bruising on his stomach. Which Scott knew about because his shirt was riding up when he pulled Isaac off the guy, not because Isaac actually complained about it.

"No." Isaac replied, walking towards the car.

Scott grabbed Isaac's arm, which had finger shaped bruises to remind him not to grab too hard.

"Isaac. You already let this guy get to you once." Scott said, pointing to Isaac's bleeding lip to make his point.

"No I didn't. He attacked me when I tried to cuff him. It was self-defense." And to Scott's surprise, Isaac actually rolled his eyes at him.

"Strangling him was self-defense?"

"He stopped punching, didn't he?" Isaac countered.

"You're not questioning this one." Scott said firmly, and walked over to the car before Isaac could continue arguing with him about it.

"What's with the plastic?" The guy, Jimmy, asked. Blood was still dripping from the broken nose Isaac had given him.

"Isaac got tired of getting my car dry cleaned, and blood is a pain in the ass to get out." Scott said with a shrug. "So, what do you know about us?"

"Nothing. Other than that your partner has a killer right hook." Jimmy muttered, rubbing at his bruised jaw, and glaring around Scott, out the window, at Isaac, who was looking coldly back.

"He doesn't know anything." Isaac said opening the door. "You're wasting your time. He was just sent as an attempt to unnerve me."

"Is it working?" Jimmy asked, giving Isaac a bloody grin.

Isaac looked back at him with an unimpressed expression on his face. "I've met ten year olds that are more frightening than you. So, no." Isaac told him.

"Is that when you're daddy started hitting you?"

"You sure he doesn't know something?" Scott asked, glaring at Jimmy. Scott was tempted to punch the guy as well for talking like that to Isaac, but resisted the urge.

"I'm sure. Abusers can usually recognize someone who's been abused. Mostly because they used to be abused as well." Isaac said. "And no, it started much sooner than that. I wasn't referring to myself when I said that. I really have met ten year olds who are more frightening than you."

Scott almost asked where, but realized the answer before he could ask the question. Spies in training. It started young after all.

"Just so you know, child abusers aren't very liked in jail. A lot of the people there have kids after all." Isaac commented offhandedly. Scott watched Jimmy get slightly paler and go silent.

They dropped Jimmy off at the prison before heading back to the base.

"What are you going to tell Stiles?" Isaac asked, breaking the quite when they were only a few minutes away from the base.

"That someone's been looking at our files and we've been trying to find out who without letting the whole base know since it could be one of them." Scott told him with a shrug.

Isaac nodded, Scott chose to take that as approval, and the silence resumed.

They got back to the base and fell into their usual pattern. Scott made coffee, Isaac used his super typing to make their report, they drank the coffee, and then went their separate ways.

"You do remember that he's just a temporary, right?" Erica asked Scott when he was about to leave.

Scott had trouble remember that actually. Isaac didn't act like most temporaries. He seemed to know what he was doing, and he was actually doing it. Most temporaries asked a bunch of questions, stumbled around on what they were supposed to be doing, didn't care since it was just a temporary job, and thus didn't try, or at the very least took a few days to get the hang of things. Isaac acted like he belonged there. And, despite Isaac's thing for not caring, they got along like they had been working together for a long time. It was easy to forget he hadn't been there long, and would be leaving as soon as he was needed in his actual job.

"Yeah, of course. Why?" Scott replied, leaning against his car and giving Erica a friendly smile.

"Because you two seem to be getting kind of attached." Erica told him, giving him a look that said she didn't buy his answer to her first question.

"Isaac doesn't get attached to anything." Scott told her.

"Anything, except you. And you're definitely getting attached to him." She countered. "Look, Scott, it's your business. I just don't want you to be hurt when he has to leave." Erica told him, sounding genuinely concerned about him.

"I'll be fine, Erica. Don't worry about it." Scott said, flashing a bright smile at her before getting into his car. "Have a nice night, Erica."

* * *

According to Scott, things had gone well with Stiles.

Stiles had agreed to keep it to himself, and since no one had said anything it had to be assumed that he really hadn't said anything to anyone.

They continued to question criminals, and continued to get nothing.

It had been a week since Stiles had found out, and both he and Scott were getting annoyed with not knowing what was going on.

"New assignment. Murderer. Male. Mid thirties. John Doe is more than likely not his real name, but it's what we've got." Stiles said, dropping files on their desk. "And he's considered armed and dangerous, if you needed more of a reason to hate him."

"Fun. Well, we had better get going then. C'mon, Isaac." Scott said, getting to his feet.

The drive was quiet and lead them to a warehouse that looked abandoned.

"Stay behind me." Scott told him, moving over towards the door.

"No." Isaac disagreed, moving beside Scott.

Scott rolled his eyes and shoved Isaac behind him before opening the door and going inside.

"Hey, Isaac, it's kind of like our first assignment." Scott called from inside a moment after barging in as Isaac was about to enter.

Scott said it casually, but Isaac knew it was more of a warning. John was in there holding a weapon to Scott.

"You have got to stop getting yourself into these situations." Isaac commented as he stepped inside, quickly assessing what was going on.

John had an arm wrapped around Scott's middle, restraining his arms, and a gun pressed against the side of Scott's head.

"According to your files I grabbed the wrong one. The last person who threatened Scott's life with you around was killed. Unfortunately, Scotty here walked in first." John said.

"No need to feel bad about that. The person who threatened to kill me ended up getting stabbed with a pen. Many times. Trying to kill either of us is usually a bad idea." Isaac told him, looking for an opening.

"Put your gun on the floor and kick it over here."

"Sorry, but I don't like the idea of you with two weapons."

Scott's shout of pain echoed around the warehouse when John moved the gun and shot Scott's shoulder. "Feeling more motivated now?" John asked, moving the gun back to Scott's head. "Or should I make the damage more permanent?"

Anger was a slightly overwhelming feeling. Particularly since he hadn't felt it in so long. But he was certainly feeling it now as he looked at the pained expression on Scott's face.

He pulled his gun out of his pocket and put it on the floor. The kick he gave it was calculated, and the gun stopped between them so that while he couldn't reach it, neither could John.

"Now, on your knees."

"You didn't have to shoot my friend just to get me on my knees." Isaac told him, getting down anyway.

"Didn't know you were funny. Such a shame that's going to go to waste when I kill you." John replied, half dragging, half pushing Scott forward.

When he moved the gun pressed to Scott's head to pick up the one on the floor Isaac leapt to his feet and kicked the gun out of John's hand.

He shoved Scott away from the guy, ignoring the groan of pain that came from Scott when he did that, and pinned John down. He was a little worried when he heard Scott hit the ground, but mostly he was angry that Scott was hurt enough to not be able to catch himself.

"Congratulations. You managed to piss me off. It's been years since that's happened." Isaac said, glaring murderously at John. He had one hand on John's throat, the other was pinning John's wrist above his head, and his knees were digging into John's stomach.

"Now, I would like nothing more than to make you suffer for hurting Scott, but I don't think he'd want that." John did his best to nod in agreement that Scott wouldn't want that. "So, just to make sure, let's ask him."

Isaac tightened his grip on John's throat before turning to look at Scott. "Scott, what do you think we should do?"

"Let's just turn him in." Scott said through gritted teeth.

"I thought you would say that." Isaac told him with a sigh. "I'll just knock him out then." Isaac started chocking John until he went unconscious, and then got off of him.

"I'll help you get to the car." He said, walking over to Scott, who was now sitting up and clutching hi shoulder.

"You're going to have to actually give up the driver's seat and sit in the back. You're bleeding." Isaac said as he helped Scott to the car.

* * *

Scott woke up in a hospital to the sound of a heart monitor beeping next to him.

He opened his eyes, smiling a little when he saw Isaac asleep in a hospital chair on one side of his bed, and Stiles on the other side.

When he attempted to sit up, and the bed creaked, Isaac's eyes shot open. Light sleeper then. Scott wasn't surprised.

"You shouldn't be moving around. You're injured." Isaac told him, his tone disinterested, but Scott's mind kept going back to the absolute fury in his voice at the warehouse . . . however long ago that was. He wasn't sure how long he had been asleep.

But that had been real anger. He'd seen the fake stuff enough to know the difference. Anger on his behalf.

"You care about me." Scott said, grinning.

"No I don't." Isaac replied immediately, but Scott wasn't buying it.

"You do. You got angry over someone hurting me, and you never get angry. You fell asleep in my hospital room, and you called me your friend. You care." Scott said, smiling even brighter, despite the unimpressed look Isaac was giving him.

"I meant to say partner." Isaac told him.

"But you didn't. You said friend. 'You didn't have to shoot my friend to get me on my knees.' There is a psychologist who would say you said it because that's what you mean."

"Are you referring to Sigmund Freud?" Isaac asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah! That was his name!"

"He would also say that you have resentment for your father because you are jealous of the intimacy he and your mother shared." Isaac informed him.

"Are you telling me Freud thinks I want to sleep with my mom?" Scott asked, making a face. "No. Gross. I resent my dad because he was an ass to my mom and he walked out on us."

"See. I wouldn't take his word for it if I were you."

"Well too bad. We're friends. You said so. I just apparently have to be shot to make you admit it." Scott replied stubbornly. "You can't deny you care more than you used to. The last person who threatened to kill me, you basically told them to do it. That it was just a bit more paper work for you."

"I stand by that. Your death really would get me more paper work."

"Would you have really killed him if I had asked you to?" Scott asked after a moment of quiet.

"I'd still kill him if you wanted me to."

"Isn't he in a high security prison by now?" Scott asked with a frown.

"Yes. So what?" Isaac had a determined look on his face, and Scott was sure that he actually would break into that prison and kill John if Scott asked him. Isaac could do it to. He would definitely be able to get away with it.

"Let's not get you in trouble. No revenge." It was quite for a few minutes before Scott spoke up again. "Isaac, why do you pretend not to care?"

That last sentence was the wrong thing to say, because Isaac's face went blank of emotion, eyes going cold again. "I should let a nurse know you're awake." He said, getting to his feet and stretching a little.

"Okay." Scott agreed, kind of sad that this small window into what Isaac was feeling seemed to be closed now. "How long have I been out?"

"All night." Isaac said curtly, walking towards the door.

"How long have you and Stiles been here?"

"All night." Isaac repeated, not looking at him this time, and then left the room to find a nurse. When the nurse came in Isaac wasn't with her.

* * *

It was another week before Scott came back to work. Isaac didn't visit him in the hospital any more after that first night.

"Hey." Scott said when he sat down at his desk.

"Hello." Isaac had been given strict orders to not let Scott over exert himself. Orders from nearly everyone in the base.

"Look, I'm sorry that I pushed you the other day. You made it clear you didn't want to talk about it, but I kept pushing you to. Are we okay?"

"Fine." Isaac replied blandly.

Except Isaac wasn't. He hadn't felt emotion like that in years. He didn't know how to handle it. He hadn't needed to since he was a little kid. And the emotions hadn't stopped there. He had been worried about Scott. He had been panicked over the new emotions. He didn't know what to do. But he covered it. Acted normal.

Scott didn't seem to buy it like everyone else though. "Wow, Isaac. I can practically feel how fine we are. Don't get too excited there." Scott said sarcastically.

Isaac didn't give any outward reaction to that.

"We are fine. I apologize if you think otherwise." He said.

Scott opened his mouth to reply, but Stiles came over before he could. Isaac had never been so glad to see the hyperactive researcher.

"Hey guys. Got a new assignment for you." Stiles said, dropping the files on their desk. "Good to see you bullied your way into getting back to work so early." Stiles added to Scott, giving him a distinctly displeased look. Good to know Isaac wasn't the only one that thought Scott shouldn't be back so soon.

"I didn't bull-"

"Please don't beat me up! I don't have any lunch money!" Stiles cut him off sarcastically.

Scott rolled his eyes, but opened up the file anyway.

"Stiles, what the hell is this?" Scott asked a moment later, frowning at his friend.

"It's what you get for being a bully." Stiles said, which peeked Isaac's interest enough to get him to look in the file.

"Petty theft." Isaac read out loud when Scott repeated his question with a 'seriously' added on being the only change in his question.

"Stiles, I haven't had a petty theft assignment since my first year."

"Yeah, well, I sent you after a murderer a week ago and you got shot. Isaac, take care of him. Make sure he doesn't get his wallet stolen or something."

"You already stole his wallet. I assume as an attempt at humor." Isaac replied, still looking at the details in the file.

"Wha- how? How did you see that? You had your nose buried in a file!" Stiles said incredulously.

"What I want to know is how you managed to do that without me noticing." Scott said, frowning and holding out his hand for his wallet.

"I'm a good pickpocket. It's not a skill I'm proud of." The smug look on Stiles face said otherwise as he handed back the wallet.

"Come on, Scott. We've got a shoplifter to bring in."

Despite Scott's many protests, Isaac still drove.

The thief didn't even put up a fight when they found him.

Apparently, whoever was handing out their files like candy hadn't deemed this particular criminal worth their time. Neither Scott nor Isaac could blame them for that. They didn't really think he was worth their time either.

Scott's shoulder started to get better as the days went on, shows what advanced medication and sheer willpower could do, and eventually Stiles started giving them better assignments.

However, Isaac was still feeling things. He knew he should request a new partner, knew he should ask to be transferred to a different base really, but he didn't.

Two weeks later and Scott and Isaac finally made a break through.

Scott was completely healed and had just pulled up outside of the jail when their target in the back of the car decided to speak up.

"If I tell you guys what you want to know, can you get me out of here sooner?"

Scott and Isaac exchanged a look. They both knew that wasn't in their power. That was up to judgment, really Scott and Isaac were just the drivers for criminals. Their job was to collect them and get them to the jail, or call sanitation when that didn't work to pick up the body. They certainly weren't going to say that though.

"Probably." Isaac lied easily. "By a year or two, at least."

"The guy you're looking for runs your base."

"Chris Argent?" Scott asked, eyebrows shooting up.

"No. The guy who actually runs it."

They booth looked at him, waiting for more, but it appeared that was all they were getting.

So, they pulled him out of the car and handed him off to the guards.

"Isaac, we did it! We finally got some real information!" Scott exclaimed. Despite Isaac being taller than Scott, Scott lifted him off the ground from around the waist and spun him around.

"Scott! Put me down!" Isaac was intending to say it sternly, but instead he was laughing and meeting Scott's bright smile with a small smile of his own.

"Never!" Scott replied grinning up at Isaac. At least he'd stopped spinning. "You actually smiled and laughed! I've never seen you do that without it being for the sake of getting information." That was because it had been years since he had doen that without the need for information. "If all it takes to make you happy is sweeping you off your feet, then I'm not ever putting you down!"

It was right then, looking down at Scott's happy face that Isaac realized just how majorly he had fucked up. Because he had let Scott get to him, he hadn't requested a new partner like he should have the first time he thought about it, and he had fallen for Scott McCall.

"You're going to have trouble getting things done if you're always picking me up. And your arms are going to start hurting." Isaac pointed out calmly.

Why did it have to be Scott? Scott, who he could be pulled away from any day now. Who he would lose his job over if anyone he worked for found out, because he was not supposed to have feelings like this. Would he even be allowed to live? He knew so many secrets, so probably not. Was Scott worth that? The answer came to Isaac's mind before the question even fully formed. Yes. Yes, he was.

He didn't let any of his internal turmoil show on his face though. He didn't need Scott knowing.

"I suppose you're right. We should celebrate though. What do you think about ice cream?" Scott replied, setting him back on his feet and letting go of him.

"It taste good." Isaac said indifferently, shrugging his shoulders.

"Ice cream it is then." Scott said happily, walking back towards the car.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Asking Mr. Argent had been a no go. He hadn't liked it being insinuated that he wasn't in charge. His daughter, Allison, had been confused by the question. So, they went to Isaac's apartment to hack into Mr. Argent's email.

"Isn't this kind of intrusive?" Scott asked from his spot seated next to Isaac on the couch.

"Probably." Isaac said without care, not even so much as slowing down the speed he was typing.

"Got it." Isaac said after a moment more typing. He then started going through all of the emails, including deleted one.

"His father."

"What about his father?" Scott asked.

"His father's the one really running everything from behind the scenes. So, if that guy was telling the truth, then his father was the one sending out our files."

"But why? That doesn't even make sense."

"I don't know, but I intend to find out." Isaac said, starting to type again.

"What are you doing now?" Scott asked, grabbing a new slice of the pizza they had ordered on their way to the apartment.

"Stiles' job." Isaac answered. "We need to know a bit about the guy before we go find him."

"What are we going to do when we find him?"

"Probably arrest him." Isaac replied. "He doesn't seem particularly pleasant. Apparently, when he was a field agent he was known for calling sanitation a lot since he almost always cut his targets in half instead of bringing them in." Isaac told him.

"He cut them in half?" Scott asked, stunned. He put the pizza slice down, apparently more interested in the story than the food.

"He brought a sword with him on missions and then cut his targets right there with it." Isaac said, tapping Scott's waist with the side of his hand to motion a sword hitting him when he said 'right there'.

"Okay, there isn't a rule against it, but I still feel like something should have been done about that." Scott said with a frown. "It's kind of overkill, don't you think? We do have guns. And everyone knows that you're really only supposed to kill if you have to."

"People complained to him about it a lot, his son included, but there are no rules against it. His daughter got in trouble though. With Derek's family, actually. She burned them all inside of their house except for Peter, Laura, and Derek. There were quite a few people in there. The Hale family was very large at one point. Lots of kids." And now Scott looked horrified.

"He was discharged from the job because he helped her run afterwards. She was caught two years ago and killed by Peter Hale."

"Damn." Scott said. "Sounds like something that only happens on TV. It's always weird hearing a story like that that's actually real. It still doesn't explain why he's going after us though."

"No, you're right, it doesn't. So, let's go ask him." Isaac said, getting to his feet.

"Right now?" Scott asked with surprise.

"Why put it off?"

"So we can prepare, learn more, make getting him legal." Scott listed off. "Switch back to how it usually is where you think logically instead of rushing in to do something."

"We'll bring him to the jail and file a report to judgment. If we report him now, he'll see it." Isaac argued, picking up a tiny recording device and his gun. "Is that logical enough for you?"

Scott didn't look completely convinced that this was a good idea, but nodded in agreement. "You've got an address, right? Or are we just driving blindly hoping to spot a crazy old guy."

Isaac turned the computer towards Scott. It had about a million tabs open, but Isaac had pulled one up and highlighted an address.

Scott filled the silence on the drive with speculations about why Gerard might be doing this. Isaac pointed out holes in his theories while looking boredly out the window.

"Should we knock?" Scott asked when they pulled up in front of the house.

"Peep hole. He'll see who we are and won't answer." Isaac said after a glance at the door.

"Right. Come on then. I'll get us in." Scott said, opening his door and getting out of the car. Isaac followed and walked behind Scott as Scott proceeded to approach the front door and kick it down. Which, okay, was unfairly hot.

They quickly moved inside and found an old man sitting calmly in a chair with a sword and a gun in the living room.

Isaac turned on the recording device and then slipped it in his pocket.

"I hope you boys have plenty of money, because even after you're dead I'm going to make you pay for that door."

"I'm afraid that we aren't planning on dying today." Isaac said, his gun aimed steadily at Gerard, who had his gun pointed at Isaac.

Gerard gave Isaac a look of what could only be described as contempt. "I always hated your kind. Nothing but a bunch of glorified robots programmed to lie better than they tell the truth." Isaac noticed Scott's glare intensify and apparently Gerard noticed too, because he turned his attention to Scott. "And you. You actually trust him?"

"Yes." Scott said with no hesitation.

"He really is good at his job then."

"You think I'm using Scott?" Isaac asked, raising an eyebrow. "You do understand what my job is, correct? You seem to know quite a bit about me, after all. What could I possibly gain, information wise, out of Scott? He is a field agent. Not a government official, not part of Judgment. I can't gain anything from spying on Scott. Let's be honest; field agents are really just violent taxi drivers. And I've joined them until there is someone in need of information that I have to gather."

"Seriously. You don't think that I thought of that when I found out what he did for a living? But then I realized, it makes no sense for him to be spying on me. I've not no information worth a spy's time. If you're trying turn us against each other, you're going to have to try harder." Scott said rolling his eyes.

"Speaking of information. I'd like to know why you've been passing ours around. Care to share with the class?" Isaac asked.

"Sure. It's quite simple, really. I was hoping your information would make it easier to kill you two. Isaac, because I don't like you. Scott, you have to be killed because you are well on your way to taking over after Chris. That doesn't work for me though, because you aren't one to be controlled. I need someone more easily manipulated in charge up there."

"And Isaac's information?" Scott asked.

"Not as simple. My daughter, Kate, broke into Deucalion's office a while ago and retrieved copies of all the records. I believe that was while Isaac was in Ireland. She found it by putting a tracker on one of the new spies. One who was still training, and thus wasn't as good at finding those things as one who had been training as long as Isaac has."

"You're sure I can't kill him, Scott?" Isaac asked.

"Yep. Not until he's gone through judgment, or tries to kill one or both of us.

"You know he's going to try. He wouldn't tell us all of that if he wasn't planning on killing us afterwards."

"That's not damning enough evidence." Gerard said before Scott could say anything.

"Fine, but he's got a gun and a sword in hand." Isaac pointed out. He pulled out his phone with the hand not holding the gun, and took a picture for evidence.

"You won't kill me though. I know where the copies of your files are."

"Oh, that's cute. Do you know how I'm going to handle that?" Isaac said, moving as close as he could without being in range of the sword. "I'm going to take your computer. I'm going to burn this house to ashes, and I'm going to erase myself from everywhere you've sent it." Isaac told him.

"Good luck with that."

For about a minute they all just stayed where they were in silence, debating their next moves. Scott and Isaac couldn't attack unless Gerard did, but Gerard didn't want to attack because then Scott and Isaac could.

"Fuck this. It won't kill him, and I've got enough evidence. He has a gun pointed at me after all." Isaac finally said, pulling the trigger on his gun twice, shooting both of Gerard's hands, causing him to drop his weapons.

After that it was easy to bring Gerard to jail. They shoved a gag in his mouth to keep him from talking the whole way there.

True to his word, Isaac stole the computer he found in the house, and then proceeded to drench everything in some lighter fluid he found next to the grill on the back porch. He then lit a match he found in the kitchen, and watched for a moment as the house started burning before walking to the car and taking he usual seat on the passenger side. He waited a few minutes before he called fire control.

It was actually after dropping Gerard off, on their way to file a report to judgment, when things went wrong.

They were stopped at a stop sign when it happened. The sun had gone down, so they had moon light and the headlights to see by. There were a few streetlights as well, but they weren't placed very close together.

Scott hadn't stopped smiling since they turned Gerard in, and kept turning to Isaac to make some comment about them having succeeded.

Scott turned to him, presumably to make another comment, but instead of letting Scott talk, Isaac leaned forward and kissed him. It took less than a second for Isaac's brain to catch up with his actions, and he quickly moved back, starting at Scott with wide eyes, stunned by his own actions.

Scott looked about as shocked as Isaac was. It was actually hard to tell which of them was more surprised. Scott opened his mouth to say something, and Isaac bolted. He opened the car door, unfastened his seat belt, and ran.

"Isaac!" He heard Scott call after him, before he heard footsteps following him.

He didn't answer, he just ran faster. He knew, realistically, he couldn't actually out run Scott. He had physical training, but not nearly as extensive as Scott's. Scott was trained to out run criminals. If Scott wanted to catch him, he was going to.

And it appeared Scott wanted to, because almost as soon as he got into the woods lining the road he felt a hand catching his wrist, effectively stopping him when the owner of the hand stopped.

"Damn it, Scott let go of me." Isaac said, turning to face Scott. He was trying to keep the emotions off his face, but he got the feeling it wasn't working for once.

"So you can do what? We are ten miles from anything that isn't a prison, and thirty miles away from the prison. People generally don't like to have prisons near them. So, what are you going to do? Run aimlessly? For once can't you just talk about your feelings?" Scott looked confused and frustrated, and Isaac didn't know what to make of that. He did know that Scott wasn't loosening his grip though.

"You don't understand." Isaac said, hoping that would be enough for Scott, but of course it wasn't.

"You're right, Isaac. I don't understand. So, explain it to me."

Something about that caused Isaac to snap, because suddenly he was yelling. "You broke me! I was just fine, and then you came into my life and you broke me!" Isaac shouted accusingly.

"My job is to not care, Scott. I am trained to not care about anyone or anything, but then suddenly you're there with your caring about everyone, and caring so damn much about them too, and ruined that training!" Scott had let go of his wrist, but he didn't even notice. He too busy shouting.

"I don't even know what the procedure for this is. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I'm not supposed to care about you, much less fall for you, but it's too late now. And I don't even know how long I'm staying here.

"You want me to talk about my feelings, Scott? I don't know how! I'm not supposed to have feelings to talk about, and I didn't until I met you!"

Isaac finally stopped yelling, moving his eyes to the ground instead of looking at Scott.

"Well, for a first try at talking about your feelings, I think you did pretty good." Scott said after a moment of quiet where it became apparent that Isaac was done.

Isaac looked up to glare at Scott when he said that. "All I did was yell at you. I'd hardly call that talking about feelings."

"I don't know. I feel pretty informed about what you're feeling. I got some anger from the shouting, lots of confusion, judging by the amount of 'I don't know's in there. Some romantic feelings towards me, and a bit of worry about what's going to happen." Scott replied.

"Isaac, do you trust me?" Scott asked when Isaac didn't reply to his analysis of Isaac's rant.

"Yes." Isaac told him honestly.

"Then trust me on the fact that everything is going to be okay."

Isaac was going to express his doubts about that; he could give Scott a list of things that suggested they would not, in fact, be okay, but got a bit distracted by Scott's mouth on his. Which wasn't really a bad distraction, so he kissed back.

"Is this the part where you shut down on me again?" Scott asked when they pulled away to breath.

"What?" Isaac asked, a little lost with the sudden change of topic.

"Every time you start showing emotion, you shut down and start pretending you don't have any shortly after." Scott told him, wrapping his arms around Isaac's waist and pulling him closer as he spoke.

"I'll try to keep that in mind to prevent doing it." Isaac replied.

"So, what makes me so special that I was the one who ruined all of your training? I haven't really done much. You've actually saved my life more times than I've saved yours." Scott asked curiously.

"You cared."

"Lots of people have cared about you, Isaac." Scott said with a frown. "That's how you got information from that girl you killed before you came here."

Isaac shook his head. "Technically, that is true, I guess, but it's not the same. She cared about," He put up a bright smile on his face and started speaking in a flawless Russian accent. "Anatoly Azarov, friendly family man in the process of a divorce who has never seen anyone with eyes as green as hers."

Isaac dropped the smile, replacing it with a look that almost screamed trouble, accent changing to Irish. "And before that there was a girl who was head over heels for Art –short for Arthur- O'Connor, a bad boy boyfriend who wore a leather jacket and thought she was more fun to ride than his motor cycle. Her parents hated him of course, but wasn't that the point? He thought it would be fun to break into her parent's room for sex, get them back for banning her from seeing him, and she went with anything he said. After, when she was asleep, he found a safe in their room with information he needed."

Isaac let his face and voice go back to normal. "The difference is, I didn't trick you into caring. When I came here, I didn't care if you cared. I was serious when I told that guy your death was just more paperwork as far as I was concerned. I didn't have to impress you. I was just killing time with you, but you still cared. Which was when I thought I should get a new partner, but didn't." He explained.

"Well, I'm glad you didn't."

They stayed there for a while longer, going back and forth between talking and making out. Eventually they did have to leave though. They still had to file a report to Judgment, and they couldn't leave the car out in the road all night.

When Isaac finally got home he noticed immediately that he wasn't alone. He pulled out his gun and moved silently through the house. He wasn't entirely surprised to find Deucalion waiting for him on the couch Isaac and Scott had been using that day while doing their research.

"Ah, Mr. Lahey. Do field agents usually get home so late?"

"It depends, sir. They are given an assignment and they go home when it's done and they've made a mission report." Isaac said indifferently, putting his gun away as he spoke.

"Right, of course. I hear that you and your partner have become rather close."

"Scott is quite good at the job, which is fortunate. He doesn't slow me down at least." Isaac reported in a monotone.

"Don't play dumb, Mr. Lahey. It's not a good look on you."

Isaac raised an eyebrow. "And how would you know what looks good?"

"Just as much disregard for authority then. Either way, you know what I meant. While you may have removed cameras from here and Mr. McCall's car, there are still cameras in the base, and cameras in the hospital. Apparently there are bets going around about you and Mr. McCall. From the looks you two keep exchanging, there's apparently good reason."

Isaac didn't reply. He was slightly tenser than before, but other than that he gave no outward reaction.

"And by the way you two were acting at Judgment tonight, someone is winning that bet. It makes me almost wish I had been here long enough to place some money on it."

"If you're already suspicious of me, there is nothing I can do to change your mind. So, what are my options?" Isaac asked, deciding to get strait to the point of why Deucalion was here.

"You could just kill Mr. McCall."

"Not an option." Isaac said immediately.

"Don't interrupt me, Mr. Lahey. There are more options." Deucalion said sternly. Isaac didn't apologize, but he didn't say anything else either, so Deucalion continued. "You could go back to training. We could kill you. We could make you forget Mr. McCall, or make you forget the secrets you know and then you could just stay here."

"What would I be forgetting to stay here?" Isaac asked.

"Where our base is, the government information you've gotten for us, and who other spies are. You'll remember your training, your missions, being a spy, you just won't remember who you worked with, or where, or what you gained from your work."

Isaac considered his options, weighing the pros and cons of each. "You know, he told me something our first week working together. I called it noble, but I may as well have said ridiculous. He told me that he does this job, despite it being dangerous, to make the world safer for the people he cares about. But on our first assignment he nearly got his throat slashed open. He would have if I hadn't shot the guy. So, I'm going to stay here, here I can keep him safe." Isaac decided.

"I figured you would say that. Hold out your arm."

Isaac should have been more concerned about a blind man administrating an injection, but held out his arm and watched as Deucalion pulled a box out and filled a syringe with clear liquid that Isaac assumed was the selective amnesia. It must have been already coded, since he was putting the needle in Isaac's arm right after the liquid was in.

Isaac knew there was a sedative in selective amnesia, but he wasn't aware of how fast it would work. As soon as the needle was out of his arm he felt dizzy and his vision blurred, making the room look fuzzy, and then he was falling on the floor. A few seconds later and everything went black.

* * *

Scott was kind of surprised when he got to the base and Isaac wasn't already there. He would have assumed he was getting coffee, Isaac refused to admit he was addicted to the stuff, but nothing on his desk seemed to indicate that anyone had been there that morning.

By the time Stiles got there and asked where Isaac was Scott decided he was going to go check Isaac's apartment. He told Stiles to tell Mr. Argent he was taking a personal day. Excuses for leaving work had probably been easier back when people could take sick days. With a vaccine for everything, even just the common cold, it was either personal days or injury days now.

He may have been speeding on his way to Isaac's apartment, but he didn't care. No one stopped him anyway.

When he got to the door and found it unlocked he pulled out his gun, because Isaac didn't leave his door unlocked even when he was in the apartment with Scott there, both of them fully armed.

He was surprised to see Isaac passed out on the floor of the living room, and had to resist the urge to run over to him. He could see Isaac was breathing, and he could make sure he wasn't injured as soon as he made sure the apartment was clear.

He searched all of the rooms before he went back to Isaac, kneeling down beside him.

"Isaac? Isaac, wake up." He said, gently shaking him. Even in his sleep Isaac looked slightly tense.

After a few more shakes Isaac's eyes opened and he looked around sleepily. "Scott? What are you doing here? Isaac asked, blinking up at Scott.

If Scott weren't so worried he would probably make comment about how adorable Isaac was when he was tired. As it was though, Scott was worried, so he didn't make comment.

"You didn't show up to work today." Scott said. "I wanted to make sure you were okay. What happened?"

"Selective amnesia." Isaac said, sitting up and running a hand through his hair.

"Someone made you take that?" Scott asked, already mentally forming a list of questions to ask Isaac about his life to make sure nothing important was taken away. Granted, he didn't know that much about Isaac's life, but he could cover the basics.

"No, I chose to."

Scott would ask about that after he asked the other questions. "What's your name."

Isaac rolled his eyes, but answered anyway. "Isaac Lahey."

"What's your job?"

"I'm a temporary field agent."

"Who am I?"

"Scott McCall. My partner as a field agent and, as of last night, you're also my boyfriend."

Scott smiled a little, but kept asking questions. "What was your job before this?"

"A spy for the American government."

"Who did we bring in last night?"

"Gerard Argent. Scott, stop. I know what memories I lost. Just secrets that I've picked up while being a spy."

"Why?" Scott asked, tilting his head.

"Because that was the only way I could stay here." Isaac got up as he said that, walking to the kitchen.

"What are you doing?"

"Coffee and aspirin. I hit my head when I passed out."

Scott followed Isaac to the kitchen. "You gave up spying to be here?"

"To be with you." Isaac corrected in his usual uninterested tone -Scott supposed he couldn't expect that to go away altogether-, starting the coffee maker and then digging around a shelf for aspirin.

Scott got a big smile on his face at that. "So, I guess you won't be a temporary anymore."

"I'll submit an application later today." Isaac disappeared into the bathroom before returning smelling a bit like mint and starting to pour the coffee.

"You know, coffee is just going to counteract brushing your teeth. It's actually really bad for them."

Isaac raised an eyebrow. "Is that your way of telling me you don't want any coffee? Because it makes no difference on the fact that I want coffee." He said, taking a sip of the scalding liquid.

"Addicted." Scott muttered. Isaac appeared to be pretending not to hear, but gave Scott a look when Scott poured a cup for himself. At least Scott could admit he was addicted.

"So, I guess you were right." Isaac said after a minute of peaceful silence.

"About what?" Scott asked, taking a sip of his coffee. Unlike Isaac, he didn't like to burn his mouth by drinking it as soon as he poured it, but he figured it was cool enough now.

"When you said everything was going to be alright. It appears you were correct judging by the fact that we are both still alive, dispite my employer finding out about us." Isaac explained.

Scott flashed a bright smile. "And we even got a day off." He replied. "We should go on a date."

"Now? It's," Isaac glanced at a clock on the wall. "only nine in the morning."

"We'll get breakfast then."

Isaac nodded in agreement. "Let me just get a shower first." He said, putting his, now empty, cup in the sink.

"Mind if I join you?" Scott asked teasingly as Isaac started walking towards the bathroom.

"If you want to." He called over his shoulder, and he didn't sound like he was joking. Well, Isaac never sounded like he was joking anyway, but Scott still followed. It took a little while for them to get to breakfast after that, but neither of them minded.


End file.
